


Mint and Mirriors

by AlphaKantSpell



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee, Coffee Shops, Empathy, F/M, Phobias, Touch Phobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1870953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaKantSpell/pseuds/AlphaKantSpell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Anna sang, leaning on the counter as she sighed.  Kristoff muttered in a dark breath about how he’d just cleaned it.  Elsa turned from the drink she was working on so see which man her sister had fallen in love with this time.</p><p>Hans/Elsa coffee-shop AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mint and Mirriors

**Author's Note:**

> Empathy definitely doesn't work like this.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Anna sang, leaning on the counter as she sighed. Kristoff muttered in a dark breath about how he’d just cleaned it. Elsa turned from the drink she was working on so see which man her sister had fallen in love with this time. 

Seated in one of the plush chairs and balancing a Smartphone on his knee was a man of rich red hair and ridiculous sideburns. His clothes were neat and in white-blue hues with an upscale trend. He wasn’t the café’s usual type, dull browns and snooty expressions. Judging by his clothing Elsa guessed he was a southerner. 

“He picked my favorite drink yesterday,” Anna explained like one of her fondest, old memories. Kristoff rolled his eyes. “White mocha with cinnamon and light cream with a chocolate espresso shot.”

Elsa flicked her gaze back on the southerner. She had to admit that was impressive. There were plenty of people who enjoyed those ingredients but not all at once and not in Anna’s particular order. The man, oblivious to his being scrutinized, kept focus on his phone.

“I’m going to take out the trash,” Kristoff told Elsa and she was surprised when he didn’t leap over the counter to show out Anna’s prince. Kristoff went to work tidying the café and the two sisters tended the machines and customers (the former being easier to manage than the later). Between customers and drinks Anna would sigh again and dreamily gaze in the direction of the man. 

“His name is Hans. Sounds so sophisticated.”

Elsa snorted at that. Anna was getting ridiculous. 

“Yesterday he got a sandwich. And he held the door open for me. No one around here does that for me.” 

She promptly stared in Kristoff’s direction and the man matched her frown for frown as he swept. Elsa tossed her hands in the air and was about to call them both out on their foolishness when she noticed Hans at the counter. 

“What do you have that doesn’t have coffee in it?” 

Anna gaped. Just yesterday he was ordering something with extra espresso. The change in routine seemed strange. Coffee junkies tended to not like drinks without coffee. Stranger was that the man had full attention on Elsa, who wasn’t at the cash register. He’d completely ignored Anna. 

“We have vanilla and chocolate frappuccino. They don’t have any coffee,” Anna answered, her usual confidence muted by her surprise. 

Hans kept watching Elsa. She couldn’t look away, transfixed. 

“Does it come in mint?” he asked, still focused on Elsa. She shot a glance to her sister and Anna was frowning now. 

“It does,” Elsa said. It also happened to Elsa’s favorite drink. She’s never been a fan of coffee and even on cold days like this one, the ice never bothered her. 

Hans smiled, small and dignified as Elsa’s tended to be and ordered the drink. Money was exchanged with a single look to Anna and he watched Elsa as she made it. Frappuccino making was typically Elsa’s favorite part of the job but with Han’s eyes on her she couldn’t focus. She shot a glance to her sister and Anna was just as unnerved as she was. 

Elsa topped off the drink and wrote ‘Hans’ in neat sharpie. Both the scent from the marker and mint mixed. It was equally horrible and exhilarating, same as Hans’ smile. 

“Hans,” she called and placed the drink where he could reach it. Bemused, he walked to two steps to the pick-up counter. 

“Thank you, Elsa,” he said and her eyes shot to her name tag, distantly feeling betrayed by it. Hans took a sip of the drink. His expression relaxed and when he looked at her again it was like there was nothing between them, no counter, none of the other customers, not Anna or Kristoff’s sneer. There was this strange, unsettling man from the south who guessed her favorite drink and stared at her like she was looking into a mirror. 

Then he turned and left. 

“Wow, what a creep,” Anna grumbled. Elsa was still reeling from what had happened. “We should kick him out next time. That was really rude of him.” She stopped talking when she noticed Elsa wasn’t responding. “Hello? Elsa? You okay?”

“Fine.” She pulled herself together and went back to work. Anna’s brows pinched together but dropped the topic. 

They didn’t see him again for another two weeks. By that time both sisters had put the encounter out of mind. Winter was a busy season for the café and on top of that finals for Elsa’s architecture class were coming up. She simply didn’t have time to think about Hans. She also didn’t have time for Anna and Kristoff’s I-like-you-but-I-don’t-love-you dance. 

At the moment Olaf was the scapegoat of their being at odds. Small, plump, and gifted with a harsh nose, Olaf was a regular whose sunny personality brightened the bleakest of days. He was also very opinionated on aspects of friendship and love and a million other nonsense things that resonated with Anna. Kristoff didn’t always agree. 

“The guy’s a little weird. That’s all I’m saying,” Kristoff grunted at Anna. He busied himself behind the counter with staring at the carrot cake while Anna helped customers. Elsa cleaned tables and contemplated scrubbing the outside ones for the third time today if only to escape the spat she knew was coming on. 

“Of course he’s weird. He wears Bermuda shorts out in this weather. That doesn’t mean his advice is bad.”

Kristoff laughed but the sound wasn’t a kind one. “Do you even hear yourself? That’s the epitome of a person not to take advice from.” 

“You don’t understand!”

“And you have poor judgment!”

“Enough!” Elsa shouted at both of them. Customers halted with their drinks halfway to their mouths. A small group of church goers paused mid sentence, peering over their glasses at Elsa with their fingers hanging over the lines they were reading. In the back a student kept typing his essay but he was watching the proceedings over of his laptop. Elsa combed her bangs back and glared at both Kristoff and Anna in turn. The café was dead quiet. 

Then the bell door jingled as it opened. Hans stepped through, took one look at the café and stood stock straight. When he spotted Elsa his stance changed, becoming bold. 

“Bad time?” he asked. Elsa wheezed a breath of laughter and Hans matched it. 

“I’m taking my break now,” Elsa told her co-workers, tone civil again. She folded the rag she was using to wipe down the tables and left to wash up. “And do act professional while I’m gone.” She fixed the two with another stare but the smile was still about her lips. Kristoff and Anna exchanged uneasy expressions but Elsa was confident they wouldn’t act out again. 

After washing up and fixing her hair, Elsa grabbed a simple yogurt parfait and headed outside. It was windy with a spattering on snowflakes but Elsa loved it. On the street right outside the café’s door was an endless parade of cars. Thanks to the wind Elsa couldn’t hear any of it. And thanks to the cold there wasn’t anyone outside. A few people hurried from one shop to another but they were quiet and kept their heads tucked down. In fact the only person who remained outside for longer than a few minutes was Hans, seated close to where Elsa usually sat and sipping a sturdy looking drink Kristoff would order. As she drew closer she could make out the mountain man’s font on the cup, “Hans-off” written in messy scratch. 

“Somehow I’m not surprised to see you here,” Elsa told him and took the seat opposite. 

“Oh? Well sorry to hear that I’ve already become so predictable,” he answered without preamble. He smiled again and Elsa found herself having already returned the expression. Taking the cap off the parfait, Elsa took two of the blueberries off the top and ate them one at a time. The rest of the meal she mixed. Hans was watching her again and Elsa held a suspicion he was analyzing her. Then he turned his gaze to the street and they sat in silence. 

Elsa enjoyed her time alone. That said she was uncomfortable with long silences when in the presence of another. This was different. She couldn’t pin point it but silence with Hans wasn’t something she wanted to get out of; different from being by herself but similar yet.

“Okay, how do you do that?” she blurted out. “Know our favorite drinks. How did you know I’d be out here?” The question had been pressing on her since she’d met the man. Part of her demanded she be wary of a possible stalker but that wasn’t the vibe she got from the man. He had dark undertones, most definitely, but this was something else.  
He watched her from the corner of his eye then set the drink down. 

“I’m good at reading people.”

Elsa scoffed. “There’s a big difference between reading something and telepathy.” 

Hans made a noise of irritation at the back of his throat and lounged the way Elsa was. Self conscious, she sat straighter. Her father wouldn’t have liked her posture. 

“See, like that. You did what I do before I even know it.” 

Hans tugged at one of his locks, a habit that seemed signally his own. Elsa waited for him to gather whatever he needed to speak. 

“You’ve heard of empathy, yes? I have something of a ‘true empathy’. No, I’m not a telepath, but with some luck and wit, I can imagine what others feel. It –”

He stopped for a moment, just to watch her. Elsa couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe with that stare. “It doesn’t feel so lonely when I’m living like someone else.”

Elsa broke the contact, staring out at the street with busy people hurrying through busy lives. She tried not to think of the corner of her room she’d retreat to after another ‘episode’, begging her parents not to touch her because she couldn’t stand the physical contact. She didn’t want to hurt anyone but she lashed out like an animal. She didn’t mean it, not one moment of it and she’d trade the world if only to be as happy and loveable as Anna. 

“W-why did you tell me this? Trust me with this, I mean.” She looked back to Hans and he was smiling again, tiny and insecure but more reassuring than the thousand unwanted pats on the back. 

“You felt like someone who knows how to keep a secret . . .and someone who knows what the weight of it is like.”  
Elsa nodded and tried another bite of her parfait but it was hard to force down. She pushed it away and Hans offered an apologetic grimace. 

“I don’t like people touching me. At all. That’s why I wear these gloves.” She gestured to her hands and shook her head. “It isn’t a hygiene thing I. . . I just can’t stand it at all. It’s hard for people to get. Especially people who love to hug. Tell them that you don’t like it and they squeeze you extra hard to try and make up for it.” 

“Because forced exposure always works for phobia,” Hans interjected with a sarcasm that made her laugh. It was a hollow sound, more noise than anything else but it made her smile. 

She didn’t know what to say after that. Hans was watching her, taking careful sips of his drink. His skin was flushed from the cold and his shoulders were starting to shiver despite how much effort he was putting into now showing it. Checking her phone, Elsa found that she’d already been a few minutes over her break. Gathering up her trash, she left the table with a quick apology. 

“Wait.” She was halfway to the door when he said it. Hans stood, hair whipped by the wind but focus entirely on her. “Can I. . .here, hang on.” 

He riffled through his coat and pulled out a wallet. From this he took out a card and offered it to Elsa, within her reach but not in her face. Hurried by nerves she grabbed it. Simple in design, the card read “Hans Southerland” with an email and phone number. Elsa’s brows narrowed as she scrutinized it. Whatever Hans did for a living it wasn’t serving coffee. 

When she looked up his smile was brighter than before. 

“Feel free to contact me. Or don’t. Whatever you choose your secret is safe. I won’t tell anyone about you. Just. . . well take care okay.”

And he waved. Elegant man that he was, he waved to her before taking off down the road. Elsa read over the card again then stowed it in a pocket. 

Apparently Anna wasn’t the only one who could find friends in strange places.


End file.
